Missing You
by oppisum
Summary: “They miss you. WE miss you! I miss you!” It was 11:46 at night and he only wanted to hear her voice again. The story of how one late night phone call changes Sophie and Nate’s lives for the better. Nate/Sophie *Chapter 2 up!*
1. Missing You

Title: Missing you

Theme: 11:46 pm

Chapters: Three (eventually)

Pairing: Nate/Sophie

Summary: "They miss you. WE miss you! **I** miss you!!" It was 11:46 at night and he only wanted to hear her voice again. The story of how one late night phone call changes Sophie and Nate's lives for the better. Nate/Sophie

Disclaimer: There's a reason why it's called fanfiction, people!

A/N: This is not my first fanfiction, but it is the first worth posting. Please review. I don't mind if you tell me it sucked, as long as you tell me why and how to improve it. I intend for this to be a three part fic. Thank you SOOOO much for reading!If you like it, please tell me. I don't want to take the time to type the other two chapters if it isn't any good.

**Missing You**

Nathan Ford sighed. There was no way he could keep this up. It felt like he'd been having a nonstop staring competition with an unopened bottle of alcohol for the past two months, and somehow he got the feeling that, unless something changed soon, it would win. Tara was alright, but she defiantly couldn't take Sophie's place. Did she honestly think that someone could replace her so easily?

Now, at close to eleven thirty at night -Boston time- he sat glaring half-heartedly at a blank cell phone screen. Well, at least it was better than the alternative; he had drunk about all of the coffee that he could take in an attempt to avoid the bar just two floors below his apartment.

Giving up and deciding that it would be better to just call her, he picked up the phone and held the number two speed dial.

Four rings and then a confused sounding, _"Hello?"_

"Hi Sophie, it's Nate." Of course, in a show of true romantic cliché, he had no clue what to say.

"_Nate! Is something wrong?!"_

"No more than normal. Why, should there be?"

_"Well, what else am I think when I get a call at 4:30 in the morning?" _Said a half tired, half exasperated voice.

"Oh… um, sorry; I forgot." was his dull response. He hadn't even thought about the five hour time difference between Boston and London. "Well, um, bye then. Sorry for waking you up."

"_No, no. Don't worry about it; I'm awake now. So, how are things?" _

"Uh… good. Well, horrible, actually, but that doesn't really matter right now." No matter how bad things were without her, merely hearing Sophie's voice seamed to make things better, even though he knew that, after all was said and done, this call would probably just make things worse. "How are you?"

"_Fine."_ It was a lie. She was missing them, him in particular, like mad. This was the first time that she and Nate had so much as talked since his little visit in September, and those two months without him felt like forever, at least in comparison to the last two years. _"So, how do you like Tara?"_

"Ah, well, yes, she's ok, but she's definitely not you. It's not the same as it use to be, not as enjoyable. And not just the cons, either, but things in general around here. No one can take your place. As corny as it may sound, we're a family. A really strange and dysfunctional family, but a family all the same, and now that you're gone, well… it's just not the same. We miss you Soph."

She took a shaky breath and asked the question that they both dreaded, _"You miss me for the job, or you miss me for __**ME**__?"_

"Both. Tara can do well for the cons, but she can't replace you. I mean, just the other day I found Parker standing in front of Katherine Clive's grave. They miss you. _We_ miss you! **I** miss you!!" It amazed him how hard it was to say those three little words, I miss you, when they weren't even the most important ones. What was it about three word phrases that made them so excruciatingly hard to say? "I mean, I know things are complicated between us, but still…"

"_Nate…"_ She was at a loss for words. In Nate's book an 'I miss you' was about equivalent to admitting that he couldn't control the world, that he couldn't always control the things that he loved and wanted most.

And so the backtracking began. "Um, no, I… um. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you like this." He shouldn't have called, but he knew that he would do something even worse than this if he didn't. "Um… bye, I guess." The last thing he wanted was for Sophie to come back only because she would feel guilty otherwise. That would get them nowhere.

"_Mmm. Bye Nate."_ She laid the phone back on the receiver with a sigh. It was time to choose, and she knew it. Go back to Boston and be with the people she loved, or stay in London and spend all day wondering what they were doing. The choice was simple enough.

It had been a while since Nathan Ford had wanted a drink quite as badly –or wanted to run head long into a wall so much- as he did at the moment he hung up that phone. He couldn't help but wonder how much longer he would last without her. Though it seemed she really **had** moved on romantically, he wanted –even needed- her around, even if it was just as a friend or co-worker. He stood up to go to bed, knowing full well that it would be another restless night. He knew that he would dream of her, like he always did, he knew that he would spend tomorrow missing her, and he also knew that the clock on the wall read exactly 11:46 pm Boston time.

Mean while, on the side of the world Sophie Devereaux was busy grabbing everything within reach and shoving it into a suitcase. She had already booked the earliest flight to Boston, a 7:15 pm (1) flight out of London's Heathrow airport. He had said it! He had finally said that he missed her, and that was all the invitation that she needed. She was going home. That particular thought of home was running through her head at 4:46 am London time.

(1) Just fyi, this is a relatively correct flight time. It's a seven hour and fifteen minuet flight from London to Boston. Leaving London at 7:15 pm BST (British Summer Time) (2:15 pm EDT) would put you in Boston at 9:30 pm EDT (Eastern Daylight Time) (2:30 am BST). And yes, this math _did_ take forever.

A/N: So here's something ironic: as I checked my world clock to make sure that I got the time difference correct after finishing, I realized that it was almost **EXACTLY **11:46 pm Boston time (10:46 pm my time). I really didn't do that on purpose. Also, I'm sorry if my writing style seems a little very uptight. For some reason, this is how I've always written in third person, and I really didn't think that I could pull off a realistic first person story from Nate's point of view. (but I am planning an alternate version of the third chapter from Eliot's POV. 'Why Eliot?' some of you may ask. Well, he appears to have the most level headed view of everything.) Again, THANKS FOR READING!!!


	2. A Place to Call Home

A Place to Call Home

Word count: 2,274 of actual story

A/N: I only just realized that there is another story with almost the exact same name as this one ('Missed You' by Selene Antilles). If you review, please tell me if you think I should change the story title (or if I can…). Also, it is on purpose that I use so many he, her, his, and she's. That's just the writing style I chose for this piece. Tell me how you like it or don't like it. On that note, please review, and thank you for reading!

'Ten o'clock at night and still wide awake' lately that felt like the story of Nathan Ford's life. Of course, the mug of coffee in his hand wasn't helping anything. At the rate he was going at now he would be nocturnal by the end of the month. Well, that or just not sleeping at all, which was starting to look like a very strong possibility. If he had to put up with late night TV for much longer...

He turned off the TV with a sigh and tossed the remote onto the couch. There was no way he could put up with yet another long, drawn out infomercial about some useless product that no one in their right mind would actually buy. Just as he started to reach for the day's newspaper, which he had already read through once, three loud knocks rang out from the door. Standing up and walking quickly to the door, he paused only a moment to see who it was before jerking open the door, suddenly resisting the urge to panic. "Sophie! Is everything all right? Is there some kind of trouble?" He looked up and down the hall instinctively to make sure she wasn't being followed by someone.

"No, Nate! No. Nothing like that." Sophie Devereaux couldn't help but be shocked by this extreme overreaction. She shifted nervously for a moment before adding, "It's… I just wanted to tell you, well, I'm back"

"Back? Back, as in back on the team?" His eyes looked hesitant, as if he was trying not to get his hopes up. Sophie coming back like this was just too good to be true. It couldn't be this simple, could it?

"Yes, that is, if you'll have me." Apparently it could be. Well, that was a first.

"Of course." It had been a long time since she had seen him smile like that. There was a short silence wile he looked at her. He noticed that she had let her hair grow out about an inch and that she, like him, had dark circles under her eyes; even with that, however, she was just as beautiful as ever. Before he could notice much more, he realized what a fool he must look like just staring at her like some love struck teenager. "Do you want to come in for a minute?"

"I really wish I could, but I have to find a place to stay for the night. I was hoping Tara would let me stay with her. I _really_ didn't think this one out, coming here, I mean."

"Did you _jus_t fly in?" Only now did he notice the two large bags at her feet.

"Yes. I started packing right after I got off the phone with you last night. All I've done for the past twenty-four hours is try to catch a flight to Boston."

"How did you get here from the airport?" If she hadn't even taken the time to arrange for a place to stay, she sure as heck hadn't had time to rent a car.

"I took a cab. I really did want to see you."

They stood looking at each other for another moment before Sophie finally broke the silence by saying, "Well, I guess I should get going. If I show up much later, Tara might not let me in all. I'm only hoping that she'll be in a good mood and take pity on me as is." She didn't want to leave. In actuality, Sophie probably would have been perfectly content just standing in the hall staring at Nate all night.

"You know, you can stay here if you like. I have food and a guest bedroom; Eliot cooked dinner today." He didn't want her to leave either. He knew he would see her again tomorrow, but that just didn't feel soon enough.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden."

"Sophie, you put up with my drunk ass for over a year, and you think you could ever be a burden? Please." He took her bags and stood aside so that she could come in, thinking all the while that she had been much easier to convince than he had expected.

Setting the bags down by the spiral staircase, Nate led her toward the kitchen. He knew her well enough by now to know that she probably hadn't eaten anything more than airplane peanuts within the past few hours.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, following him into the kitchen. He wore a t-shirt and sweat pants that were obviously supposed to be his night clothes.

"Nah. I've been having trouble sleeping lately." This became painfully clear as he turned on the kitchen light. It was impossible not to notice the dark circles under his eyes that made it looked as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. Little did she know, he hadn't.

"I guess I lied about having food. I'm pretty sure that leftover steak is the only non-frozen option." Nate said as he looked through the refrigerator. "Eliot made it today, but I can order something, if you want."

"Steak sounds good. I really missed Eliot's cooking." Sitting at the counter, Sophie watched as he reheated the steak and poured himself a cup of coffee. "About the whole not sleeping thing. You DO realize that coffee tends to wake people up, don't you?" She added with a laugh.

Nate just shrugged. He didn't particularly feel like explaining the reasoning behind the coffee right then. But she understood. "Nate, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." He said this, but she couldn't help but feel like it was somehow, especially knowing that he was drinking coffee twenty-four-seven to stay away from alcohol. She hadn't realized that her leaving would be this hard on him. Sophie wanted to believe that she was just being silly and that there was no way her absence could have this much of an effect on him, but deep down she knew it was true.

"Here you go." Her thoughts were interrupted as a plate was placed before her.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Nate sat down in the chair next to her. Honestly, he was content with just watching her, but fearing that this might come over as a little creepy he decided to continue the conversation. "So, what have you been up to lately?"

"Other than missing you guys like mad, nothing really. I couldn't even bring myself to pull a decent con. Eliot was right; being the good guy really _does_ get under your skin."

He was tempted to ask why she hadn't come back sooner if she had missed them so much but didn't because he knew that the answer wouldn't be one he'd like.

The rest of the conversation progressed much like this; question and answer from both sides and, inevitably, questions left unasked for fear of the answer. Even long after Sophie had finished her steak and Nate his coffee, they continued to talk. At last, as the clock struck eleven, Sophie let out a yawn. Noticing this, Nate said, "We should probably go to bed. There're going to be questions to answerer tomorrow when the others get here."

After putting the dishes up and turning off the light, he grabbed her bags and led her upstairs to the room next to his. "Here you are. If you need anything, you know where I am." He smiled slightly before adding, "Good night."

"Night." As she walked into the room, Sophie couldn't help but feel a bit sad. Things were, more or less, normal. This was by no means a bad thing, but it wasn't exactly what she wanted either. After swinging the door shut she proceeded to look through her bags for her night clothes.

It wasn't as if she had expected fireworks or a parade, but maybe a few sparks. Or a kiss, that would have worked. But now she saw that it was foolish to think things would change between them so quickly. It had taken Nate this long just to admit that he needed her. After changing into a pair of lavender pajamas with long sleeves and pants she laid down on the bed and let out a deep sigh. There was no way she could go to sleep any time soon.

Nate lay in bed with his hands over his face. He could have said it; he _should_ have said it. He had had the perfect opportunity. He should have told her how much she meant to him. Things were screwed up between them; he knew that. They weren't the same people as they were four years ago. When he lost his son, he lost part of himself as well, a part that could never be returned. At the time, he thought that he would never love again, that it would be too painful. Well, it was painful, but somehow, just being around her, around all of them, had taught him that it _was_ possible to love again, to fall in love again.

About then, however, his musings were interrupted by a new sound. Sobbing. Yes, that sound was unmistakably the sound of someone crying. It was very soft, but still audible through the paper thin walls of the loft.

Nate, for the first time in his life, wished his house WAS haunted. Having a crying ghost would probably be better than having a crying Sophie; at least then he could tell himself that he was just crazy and go back to bed. But NOOOOOO, things couldn't be that simple. It just had to be real and not a figment of his imagination. Had he done something wrong? He didn't REMEMBER saying or doing anything that would upset her.

Not bothering to turn on a light, he walked silently down the hall to the spare bedroom. "Sophie?" he whispered quietly as he opened the door. The light sobbing stopped imminently.

"Nate! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." She said in surprise as she moved into a sitting position.

"I wasn't asleep." Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he continued "Are you all right?"

"It's nothing."

"If you're crying, it means it's something." He reached to move a strand of hair from in front of her eyes. The dim light coming through the window gave them just enough light to see by.

"Really, it's stupid." She shifted nervously under his gaze. How could she say what it was without sounding like an idiot?

Little crystals of tears were just visible underneath her eyes. He brushed them gently away with his thumb. "Sophie, you know you can still tell me, even if it is stupid. I'll listen." he replied, adding a small smile.

"Nate…" The way he was acting left her breathless. She hadn't seen him like this in years. She almost felt compelled to tell him. "Are you sure you want to know?"

He could see the pained expression in her eyes. It matched his own. He knew what this was about. "Yes."

"It's... it's just that it feels like it's never going to work out. You and me, that is. If it's not one thing coming between us, it's another."

"Do you really want it to work? Think before you answer. Things will never be simple between us, Sophie. We're different people than we were four years ago, both of us."

"Don't you want it to work?"

"Of course I do. I just… I'm afraid of what it might put you through, being in a relationship with me, I mean. You've already been through enough for me these past two years. I love you, Sophie, and I'm just afraid that it'll end up hurting you more."

She was amazed that he'd said it. Honestly, she hadn't really thought him capable of making the first move. "Sometimes life is painful, Nate, you of all people should know that, but when you love someone, it's worth it."

He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away, before he kissed her lightly. She didn't even have time to respond before he moved back to gauge her reaction. It was, thankfully, a good one. This time they both lean forward. Her hands came up to run through his hair and his to trace the side of her face. After what felt like forever yet no time at all, they finally broke apart. They both knew that they would take things slow…ish. For now.

Nate moved to lie under the covers, and Sophie let out a sigh of contentment as he wrapped her in his arms. "Can we do this more often?" she asked, only half joking.

"Whenever you want."

He had holes in his heart; they both knew it. They also knew that it was a wound time could not heal, only numb, and that she couldn't fill that spot. But as he held her, Nate realized that there had always been another hole, one only she could fill, one that had been there from the moment they met.

They were both messed up, Sophie knew, but that was what made them, them. Even if they were different people now than they were four years ago, they were still in love. It was because of this the she knew everything was going to be all right. '_Yes_,' she thought as she rested her head on his chest and his arms encircled her, '_Everything is going to be all right.'_ She had found a place to call home. And with that thought, they both drifted to the best sleep either of them had had in weeks.

A/N: Wow… that was a VERY long chapter. It probably would have been smarted to split it into two parts, but I wanted to stick to my original plan of having one chapter for each day (and maybe a second version of chapter three from Eliot's point of view). I also wanted to do something about Sophie's real name, but I thought that would make a multi chapter fic too complicated (having to have them call her by another name from then on, ect.).

Also, I know that there probably aren't two bedrooms on the second floor of a loft apartment like that, but it had to work for the story.

For those humor fans out there, I promise the next two chapters will be funnier. The forth chapter very much so.

P.S. Oh, if it sounds like I was a bit out of it when I wrote everything from the ghost part on, it's because I was. It was one in the morning, and the only thing keeping me up were coffee beans straight from the bag. And, wow… apparently my writing gets fluffier when I'm half asleep… I only just noticed that it seems to have gotten sappier the sleepier I got… I wonder if that should be telling me something… *ponders*


End file.
